Sunday, April 30, 2006
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Priceless
Yesterday we took the plunge. After looking at dozens of plastic kitchens, or not as good wood kitchens, Daddy said I had to see the Pottery Barn Kids kitchen. Originally he wanted to get the stove and the sink, but it's quite a big price tag for a kitchen for a little girl.
So we drove to Corte Madera to look at the kitchen. Daddy's right. There is no way we could buy any other kitchen after seeing this one. We did agree to just get the stove for now, and add the sink in a few more months.
Kids Retro Stove from Pottery Barn Kids: $250
Kids real cookware set from Pottery Barn Kids: $29
Eating our first pretend soup...priceless.
So we drove to Corte Madera to look at the kitchen. Daddy's right. There is no way we could buy any other kitchen after seeing this one. We did agree to just get the stove for now, and add the sink in a few more months.
Kids Retro Stove from Pottery Barn Kids: $250
Kids real cookware set from Pottery Barn Kids: $29
Eating our first pretend soup...priceless.
Friday, April 07, 2006
Two
My little one, Wednesday was your birthday. You are now officially two.
Two has brought a few changes, including a traipse into those dreaded tantrums two-year-olds have made famous. You get upset about strange things, mostly it seems when you ahve an idea in your two year old head that things should be a certain way and then they change. You got upset this morning that I put another pair of pants in the dry cleaning bag and moved toys from the living room into your bedroom. You scream and cry like the world was ending, we ask you what's wrong and you cry louder. This morning that got you a time out in your room with the door shut. Your Daddy swears this doesn't happen when I'm not around and the funny thing is, it doesn't happen often when it's just us. Something smells funny, and it's not a disaster diaper!
Your first time out, for two minutes on the green chair in the living room, came for writing in pen on the living room wall. What's this about anyway? You know you're only supposed to write on paper, but there's now pen circles on one wall, pencil circles on another, and pen slashes on the red couch. Daddy and I shake our heads about the couch, again saying we're glad we bought the $500 couch from IKEA instead of the $2000 couch we really wanted from Room & Board. That and move all the pens so they're out of your reach.
All of the crayons in your reach are washable - thank heaven - although you've taught yourself to peel the wrapper off by biting in the middle so the paper gets wet and tearing it off in the middle. Yes, all of the big fat Ava-designated crayons in the house run around naked.
Crayons aren't the only naked objects; you like to run around naked too when you're not trying to put on your own clothes. The other day you asked for "hep pees" (help please) putting on shorts over your pants. Okay, no problem. Dress in layers right? But then you tried to put on more pants over the pants and the shorts and got frustrated that it just wasn't working out. I guess I could have handed you some 3T pants for the top layer, that would have worked, but instead I suggested that two layers could be enough.
You are getting good at saying "thank you" but since everytime you say "thank you" someone says "you're welcome" that you've decided to help them out and say "thank you welcome." Can you say "thank you"? I ask. You respond, "thank you welcome."
Water. You love, love, love water. You don't love drinking water as much as you like stirring it. You love bathing in it, but mostly you love stirring water (or any liquid) in a cup with whatever utensil you can grab. All utensils are spoons, which is fine for now, because I'm not going to start an arguement with you by calling a fork a fork when clearly, in your mind, it's a spoon.
You know so many words now I'm amazed. You can nearly count to ten by yourself, with prompting from someone who can count to ten. I asked you in the bath the other day how many feet you had and you said, clearly, "Two!" Thinking it was a fluke, I asked you how many hands you had. "Two!" How many heads do you have? That one stumped you for a bit, probably because you couldn't see how many heads you have.
Your hair is finally long enough for pigtails, which I can only master if you're watching TV. I hate to admit how much you love TV. You walk into my bedroom frequently and point at the TV. "TV off!" I know that means "Mommy, why is the TV off?" But I just agree, "Yes, the TV is off, let's go color in your room."
You are starting to drive me crazy, just a little bit, but I still wouldn't trade you for anything.
(For the record, neither would Daddy. We would consider renting you out for a couple days, but then we'd want you back.)
I wonder if someday you'll know how much I love you?
Mommy
Two has brought a few changes, including a traipse into those dreaded tantrums two-year-olds have made famous. You get upset about strange things, mostly it seems when you ahve an idea in your two year old head that things should be a certain way and then they change. You got upset this morning that I put another pair of pants in the dry cleaning bag and moved toys from the living room into your bedroom. You scream and cry like the world was ending, we ask you what's wrong and you cry louder. This morning that got you a time out in your room with the door shut. Your Daddy swears this doesn't happen when I'm not around and the funny thing is, it doesn't happen often when it's just us. Something smells funny, and it's not a disaster diaper!
Your first time out, for two minutes on the green chair in the living room, came for writing in pen on the living room wall. What's this about anyway? You know you're only supposed to write on paper, but there's now pen circles on one wall, pencil circles on another, and pen slashes on the red couch. Daddy and I shake our heads about the couch, again saying we're glad we bought the $500 couch from IKEA instead of the $2000 couch we really wanted from Room & Board. That and move all the pens so they're out of your reach.
All of the crayons in your reach are washable - thank heaven - although you've taught yourself to peel the wrapper off by biting in the middle so the paper gets wet and tearing it off in the middle. Yes, all of the big fat Ava-designated crayons in the house run around naked.
Crayons aren't the only naked objects; you like to run around naked too when you're not trying to put on your own clothes. The other day you asked for "hep pees" (help please) putting on shorts over your pants. Okay, no problem. Dress in layers right? But then you tried to put on more pants over the pants and the shorts and got frustrated that it just wasn't working out. I guess I could have handed you some 3T pants for the top layer, that would have worked, but instead I suggested that two layers could be enough.
You are getting good at saying "thank you" but since everytime you say "thank you" someone says "you're welcome" that you've decided to help them out and say "thank you welcome." Can you say "thank you"? I ask. You respond, "thank you welcome."
Water. You love, love, love water. You don't love drinking water as much as you like stirring it. You love bathing in it, but mostly you love stirring water (or any liquid) in a cup with whatever utensil you can grab. All utensils are spoons, which is fine for now, because I'm not going to start an arguement with you by calling a fork a fork when clearly, in your mind, it's a spoon.
You know so many words now I'm amazed. You can nearly count to ten by yourself, with prompting from someone who can count to ten. I asked you in the bath the other day how many feet you had and you said, clearly, "Two!" Thinking it was a fluke, I asked you how many hands you had. "Two!" How many heads do you have? That one stumped you for a bit, probably because you couldn't see how many heads you have.
Your hair is finally long enough for pigtails, which I can only master if you're watching TV. I hate to admit how much you love TV. You walk into my bedroom frequently and point at the TV. "TV off!" I know that means "Mommy, why is the TV off?" But I just agree, "Yes, the TV is off, let's go color in your room."
You are starting to drive me crazy, just a little bit, but I still wouldn't trade you for anything.
(For the record, neither would Daddy. We would consider renting you out for a couple days, but then we'd want you back.)
I wonder if someday you'll know how much I love you?
Mommy
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